I hate pidgeons

The more I let pidgeons wind me up in this place, the less I enjoy being here.

Budapest, that is.

That first pidgeon when you leave the flat is the key. It usually happens within about ten seconds. Let it get to you, and it immediately transforms your day for the worse. Ignore it, accept it, deal with it, and everything seems a whole lot easier to cope with.

Today, the first pidgeon got to me.